Chapter Two: Refusing to Be Ordinary, Returning to the World of Myth

December 31, 2078. Standing excitedly amidst the bustling streets, Lin Mu’s eyes gleamed with an electric intensity, as if he could shoot lightning bolts: “Tomorrow is the grand opening of the virtual holographic MMORPG ‘Mythical World.’ Ha! I can’t believe I’ve been reborn!”

Recalling his four years of hard-fought struggles, the ups and downs, and the bitter moments flooding his heart, he vowed, “No more compromises. Now I possess experience beyond compare. I will surely stand atop the world and command the course of history. Ha… Just wait—you’ll learn what true despair really means…”

“Ha, I’ll make you regret it… Ha ha…” Lin Mu, overwhelmed with excitement, loudly expressed his innermost feelings.

“Mommy, why is that man laughing so creepily?” a little girl holding her mother’s hand asked in a soft voice.

“Maybe he’s heartbroken,” her young mother replied with a knowing tone.

“Mommy, what’s heartbreak?”

“It’s just heartbreak. Don’t worry about it, let’s go get some ice cream…” the mother said helplessly.

“Yay, yay!” The little girl’s attention was easily diverted.

Hearing the exchange, Lin Mu’s face darkened with embarrassment. “I just accidentally blurted out what was on my mind,” he thought. He then focused on the virtual screen hanging on the building: The world’s number one virtual holographic MMORPG, ‘Mythical World,’ bursts onto the scene: You can relive the starting point of life!

No, that’s not right. The slogan was supposed to be, “Everything is possible!” How did it change to “You can relive the starting point of life!”? Lin Mu was puzzled. When he first saw “Everything is possible,” he even sneered, giving the ad a three out of ten and calling it a ripoff. Could it be that he was reborn in a different world? Yet he was certain this world was still Earth, his original home, though perhaps it had subtly changed—could this be the fabled butterfly effect?

He wasn’t sure if the game’s state had changed too, but hoped not drastically, or else his three years of experience would be wasted.

Lin Mu was an orphan, raised by a butler he called “Grandpa,” an aged intelligent simulation robot. Nowadays, the technology had evolved into synthetic humanoid beings, combining the strengths of various creatures—like humanoid ants with immense strength—designed to assist humans with difficult labor.

Intelligent simulation robots were outdated technology, but Lin Mu’s “Grandpa” was a slightly worn but deeply affectionate machine. From childhood, “Grandpa” cared for him like a towering guardian shielding him from storms, allowing Lin Mu to enjoy a relatively happy, if lonely, childhood. Society’s welfare was well-developed, and with the modest savings left by his vanished parents, Lin Mu lived a carefree and peaceful seventeen years.

However, when Lin Mu reached adulthood at eighteen, the loyal “butler,” bound to him by deep affection for years, quietly left—not disappeared, but silently gone—leaving behind a letter and an ancient ring. Lin Mu kept both carefully hidden under his bed, never revealing their secret or seeking “Grandpa” after reading the letter.

Despite today’s advanced technology and abundant knowledge, education remained the same: starting school at seven and university at nineteen—this was Lin Mu’s lifelong pattern.

During his four years at university, he developed a passion for virtual MMORPGs. In that virtual world, he rode into battle and commanded with flair, earning a bit of fame as a skilled player. His virtual bank savings were decent—enough for modest comfort. Back then, when he saw the game’s overwhelming advertising, he bought a VR helmet. Everyone was talking about it: “Have you heard of ‘Mythical World’?”

As a professional gamer, Lin Mu was among the first to enter the game, gaining the capital to contest for a county—a small lord. Before his rebirth, he was entangled in the petty scheming of those around him, just an ordinary person with a history of love, hate, and betrayal.

Later, he was recruited by a peerless beauty from his school. His territory was incorporated into hers, making him a vassal—a common and reluctant choice for many players oppressed by powerful factions. But Lin Mu agreed willingly because she was the silhouette he secretly adored.

No regrets…

Even after being pushed out and forced to develop independently, he used his experience to grow a small mountain village into a county, proving his exceptional ability.

Finally, she summoned him once again to help conquer a dominant boss, and Lin Mu agreed without hesitation, as always.

Now, thanks to the mutated Rebirth Pill, Lin Mu had returned to the day before the game’s launch—a true miracle.

This was his greatest secret.

His ambitions now stretched farther—to become a regional warlord… The thought made his heart race with excitement.

He imagined immortality, endless lifespan, trembling with exhilaration.

‘Mythical World’ was a virtual game authorized by all governments on Earth. Indeed, all governments, guiding Earth’s development with flourishing technology and the dawn of cosmic exploration.

The Earth’s governments formed a colossal entity—the Federal Government, successor to the United Nations. Although nominally federal and more powerful than the UN in some respects, control still oscillated among several rogue states.

With relentless promotion worldwide, many citizens logged into the game.

The game bore different names in various countries; in Lin Mu’s homeland, the Huaxia Nation, it was called “Mythical Three Kingdoms.”

Lifespans gained in ‘Mythical World’ could extend real-world longevity.

Enhancements acquired in the game could strengthen the real body.

‘Mythical World’ represented humanity’s chance for evolution.

This explosive announcement triggered countless consequences.

Of course, the government revealed this information only after the game had been running for half a year.

Many skilled players had uncovered numerous secrets in the game, but the professional gaming community also saw kidnappings and murders, many suppressed by powerful factions or government forces.

On December 31, most people regarded it simply as another game launch, continuing their peaceful lives. But the upper echelons across the globe stirred with undercurrents—they were the rulers and wealth magnates of their nations.

Information about ‘Mythical World’ was scarce. The game world was entirely controlled by the supreme AI brain, Nuwa, with no human administrators. There was only one global server, and player data was accessible solely by Nuwa, eliminating risks of data leaks and greatly enhancing players’ real-world security.

Major agencies only handled device sales and maintenance, alongside peripheral development and managing game studios.

While player information could potentially be exposed through real-world means, maintaining secrecy and withholding details from other players ensured substantial safety.

‘Mythical World’ combined strategic lordship with wilderness adventure. The entire map was based on an enlarged Earth terrain, altered partly by the game’s own mythic rules. For strategic purposes, mountain ranges, rivers, and city names shifted slightly.

The map’s length and width were roughly forty times larger, and height increased by a hundred times. What was a hundred-meter hill in reality became ten-thousand meters tall in the game—considering Mount Everest’s height, this was truly staggering. These figures were player estimates, not official data; much remained unexplored.

The grand scale meant more secrets to uncover and vastly increased the game’s playability. Each nation’s game background drew from a historical period, primarily the cold weapon era, creating a vivid, story-rich world. Areas without cold weapon history were generated by Nuwa’s simulation based on world background. Specific historical contexts could be viewed on the game’s homepage.

In China’s region, the chosen period was the late Eastern Han to the Three Kingdoms era.

Lin Mu calmed himself and thought for a moment before leaving. He needed to return home. Overcome by excitement from his rebirth, he had rushed to the street without his smart watch, unable to buy the VR helmet.

He hurried back to his rented apartment near school—still a fourth-year university student.

Upon entering, everything was familiar. When he entered his senior year, Lin Mu rented a place to accommodate his professional gaming lifestyle, as scheduling conflicts often disturbed dormitory roommates.

Recalling his three dorm ‘brothers,’ Lin Mu felt a trace of nostalgia.

He had planned to buy the VR helmet today. Though the game launch was still a day away, he knew some secrets that would give him an early advantage. To waste time buying the helmet would be foolish.

The helmet could be bought online but lacked special rewards.

At the sales booth in the city center plaza, Lin Mu bypassed the main counter and approached a bionic humanoid receptionist.

“Hello, how may I assist you?”

“Hello, I’m a relative of an employee at Tianyue Studio in Xinghai City. I’m here to buy a VR helmet.”

“Please provide the employee’s identification number.”

“gz03ty237.”

“Very well. Please pay 5,899 RMB.” The currency was still the renminbi, colloquially called “soft sister coin” among gamers. Due to historical shifts, RMB and USD exchanged at a 1:1 rate, reflecting Huaxia’s rising national power.

Lin Mu exploited a loophole. This purchase through a game studio employee was a tip from a local professional gamer friend from his previous life. Though the studio’s privileges had been revoked then, now purchases were unrestricted as long as proof was provided. Lin Mu quietly used the information—many players’ relatives did the same—and didn’t fear exposure.

He smiled to himself, ready for the next stage of his journey.